


Your Birthday Surprise

by jarethsdragon



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: BDSM, Birthday, Bondage, Explicit Sex, F/M, Mildly Dubious Consent, Other
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-12
Updated: 2018-02-12
Packaged: 2019-03-17 03:08:15
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 13,410
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13650159
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jarethsdragon/pseuds/jarethsdragon
Summary: You have a very special birthday surprise from your Daddy Dom—Jesse McCree.  It’s just a shame that he found out about your crush on Hanzo Shimada...or is it?





	Your Birthday Surprise

**Author's Note:**

  * For [iLoveHanzoMoreThanSleep](https://archiveofourown.org/users/iLoveHanzoMoreThanSleep/gifts).



> Terribly translated Japanese. We may safely blame Google (again).
> 
> This was inspired by iLoveHanzoMoreThanSleep. It’s probably not what ilhmts wanted, exactly, but I appreciate the idea nonetheless.

You stirred your half-caff coffee restlessly, glancing at the Overwatch archer. Jesse hummed softly as he sipped his coffee—the full strength, as-much-caffeine-as-possible, stuff that roared out of the pot—and watched you carefully with a cat-like grin on his face.

“An’ what’re ya lookin’ at so hard?” he asked you suddenly as his finger traced your cheek.

You flushed and turned back to him. “Nothing!”

“Aww, honeybee, don’ be tryin’ that stuff,” he chuckled confidently. He was always so cocky and so sexy when he gave you that low laugh. “I see ya. So, do ya mind tellin’ me what yer not lookin’ at?”

You flushed and buried your nose back into stirring your coffee. “Nothing.”

“So, yer not lookin’ at Han?” He smiled kindly and confidently. “Ya sure, honeybee?” You turned even a darker red as he chuckled softly. “Caught ya again.”

You grunted and hoped that he would drop the subject. Unfortunately, this was the third or fourth time, and the cowboy was not about to let this go. He leaned back in his chair comfortably and smirked. “So, why not tell yer Daddy ‘bout it?”

“It’s nothing,” you insisted.

“Darlin’,” he said in a cool tone. “Ya know Daddy don’ like his lil’ girl lyin’.”

You puffed out a breath. “It’s....”

“It’s Hanzo, ain’t it?” He leaned in close so that you could hear his voice drop to a comfortably low tone. “Tell Daddy about it. An’ don’t tell me it’s nothin’. I caught ya a couple times now ‘n’ every time ya turn red ‘n’ tell me that an’ then I catch ya again.” You shook your head, silently vowing—again!—that it was the last time. “So, tell ol’ Dad about it—or I’ll ask him.”

“No!” you burst out in a hissing whisper. Finally, you frowned and stuttered, “It’s...it’s.... I.... He...well....”

Jesse looked up and nodded at the questioning look of the archer and then turned back to you. With a warm tone, he said, “Han’s real nice to look at, ain’t he?” You turned red again and Jesse couldn’t resist smiling. “He’s all nice an’ muscle-y an’ ya like his manner—.”

You nodded. “Yeah.” You ducked your head, refusing to look at the smiling man. “But—.”

“But, what, darlin’?” He smiled and cocked his head. “Is there more?” When you said nothing, he looked at you harder. “Now, yer my darlin’ lil’ girl, but ya gotta open up ‘n’ be honest. Ya can either tell me yerself what’s goin’ on, or I’ll order it ‘n’ I don’ wanna have ta paddle ya over this.”

You shot him a wounded look. He was absolutely right. When you agreed to be his sub—his little girl—and he agreed to be your Daddy dom, you both agreed to be honest with each other about absolutely everything. You agreed that there would be no secrets. But that didn’t stop it from occasionally be really embarrassing when he decided to thrash something out.

“So...I got, well, fantasies,” you muttered, looking aside nervously.

“Oh, now I am interested,” he smiled widely. “Tell ol’ Dad ‘bout these here fantasies.”

You shrugged. “It’s embarrassing.”

“That’s what makes it fun,” he smirked. “Go on—I’d guess they’re ‘bout my friend Hanzo.”

You nodded, taking a sip of your now ice cold coffee. “So, I.... I imagined, this thing—.”

“Get to it, darlin’.” He waited for a bit and then frowned as you stayed silent and refused to look him in the eye. “Or get me my belt and I’ll—.”

“No!” You flushed again. “So, I was imagining...well, this scene. Being—.” You pulled out your electric book reader and showed him the title you were reading—“Innocent Taken By the Yakuza”—and looked as his eyebrows raised and he looked at you. “It’s really...exciting.”

“Ya wanna be fucked by—,” his voice rumbled lowly with a raised eyebrow.

You shrugged and interrupted, “It’s just a fantasy of mine. To be held down by a yakuza and fucked so roughly. To be forced and have no choice but to submit and...and....” You shrugged and looked away. “I...It’s stupid.”

“Don’ ya go sayin’ that now—ya ain’t stupid.” Jesse skimmed the pages with a grin. “But I gotta say that ya got some...interestin’ ideas.” You snatched for the book reader and he held it up above his head out of your desperate reach. “Now, lil’ girl, ya gotta share.”

“That’s not fair, Daddy,” you hissed with a pout.

“Tough,” he smirked. “Jus’ sit on down an’ be patient.”

You pounded the table in frustration. “Look, I’m really sorry. I won’t do it again. I won’t mention it again.”

“Jus’ tell me what ya like, darlin’,” he smirked, obviously enjoying your dark flush. “Don’ leave nothin’ out.”

“I...I liked the whole story,” you muttered sourly. “The story is about how the girl is in her apartment and the yakuza busts in—.”

Unexpectedly, your nose tickled with the smell of warm sandalwood and Hanzo’s voice rumbled behind you. “Did I hear you talking about me?”

You whined and buried your face in your hands. Jesse answered for you. “Nah...she’s jus’ tellin’ me ‘bout a book she’s readin’.”

Hanzo puffed out a breath behind you. “If you have questions, I will answer them, but most of the books are pure fantasy.” You let out a little whine of embarrassment and buried your flaming face in your hands. “Is there a problem?”

“Nothin’,” Jesse replied with a smile. “I’ll catch up with ya later. Got some...uh...mission stuff ta ask ya.”

“Very well,” the archer replied. “I will see you soon.” He paused and you felt his gaze on you. “Is...she well?”

You raised your face and pouted at Jesse, who was smiling cooly. “I gotta go.”

“Now, darlin’,” Jesse smiled. “Cool yer heels. I ain’t quite done with ya yet.”

You couldn’t even turn around. Hanzo was apparently satisfied and said, “If there is nothing, then I will go to the range.”

“Meet ya there,” Jesse nodded as the other man departed. The innocent looking smile faded as the Hanzo left the cafeteria. Then he fastened his eyes on you. “So, darlin’—now whatcha gonna do?”

“Die from embarrassment.”

He laughed at that. “Naw—yer fine. But I’m dyin’ ta hear what ‘bout this is so hot.”

You shrugged lamely. “Well...it’s sorta complicated. I mean—I’ve done the right thing all my life and went to school and did my chores and stuff. It seems so...dirty to get involved with gangsters—with the yakuza. Like only a really bad girl would get mixed up with that.” Jesse bristled a little and you shot him a smile. “It sounds exciting—being a bad girl who does those things. Then the whole idea of...well....” Deep breath. “I like Japanese culture—the bowing and everything. How everything is so precise and delicate and all. So there’s that, but I also love the idea of not being able to fully communicate.”

“What?”

“Japanese is so wonderful when it is spoken. So fluid and fast.” You shook your head, not sure if you could explain it. “And the idea of being...handicapped by not speaking it myself is extra hot.”

Jesse nodded uncertainly. “All that anime and cartoons—?”

“I love it all. That the girls are so...buxom and sexy.” You smiled shyly at the thought, gesturing at your chest. “I love the pet play—the koneko kitten costumes. I love how submissive it is—the violence and being held down and not being able to do anything about it.” You winked at him. “And you know that I love being overpowered.”

“Yeah...that’s always fun.”

“So, it all kind of comes into play,” you continued. “Being a filthy, bad girl who gets mixed up with gangsters and criminals—sorry, Jesse—who are violent and rough and want to fuck. Then being unable to speak the language and it’s like being gagged cause there’s nothing I can say to stop it. It’s all so hot.”

Jesse sat back, plucking his whiskers thoughtfully. “And ya like lookin’ at Han....”

“I do,” you nodded, feeling your face heat up again. “Next to you, he’s sex on legs—.”

“Darlin’, he’s totally opposite me.”

You shrugged. “Viva la difference. He’s sexy and hot and strong. He can overpower me even without weapons.” You flushed and looked up at the cowboy. “And I love the tat.”

“His tattoo?”

“It’s amazing. Do you know the symbolism—?” You started to burble and caught the vaguely confused look on his face. “Never mind. It’s a beautiful work of art.”

Jesse smiled. “Anythin’ else?”

“No,” you muttered. “Isn’t that enough?”

“Maybe,” he nodded, looking at the device. “Ya be a good lil’ girl and run along. I gotta meet Mercy ‘bout some stuff.”

“Don’t tell Hanzo, okay?” Jesse only hummed, tucking the reader under his huge arm and gathering the coffee cups. You frowned up at him, pouting. “Daddy!”

“Run along, darlin’. See ya at home.”

You pouted as the huge cowboy stood up and took the book reader with him out the door. Stalking out, you went about your day. After doing your normal job—a boring desk job where you filed and sorted and copied—you stalked across the base back to the apartment.

It wasn’t much—a ground floor apartment on base with a patio, a kitchen, a sitting room/living room, and a larger bedroom—but it was comfortable and in a corner of the building with about seventy-five square feet more than the middle ones. There was a comfortably worn leather set of a couch and overstuffed recliner that faced a huge television, a table and four chairs and a china cabinet in the area past the galley kitchen, an a dark wood bedroom set with a king-sized bed, two bedside tables, a tall chest of drawers, a dresser and a small bookcase. There were a comfortable number of hooks to hold the long leather ammunition belts and a stand or hanger type thing that held his darkly painted armor.

Doing your chores, you couldn’t help biting your bottom lip. The book reader wasn’t anywhere in the apartment, although you could find Jesse’s dirty socks, a torn bandana and a handful of crumpled boxes that used to hold ammunition.

Where was Daddy? You couldn’t help but whimper as you kept digging dirty clothes from between the bed and the wall. Daddy was supposed to be here when you came back from work. He was supposed to be sitting on the balcony and smoking his stinky cigar and telling you that dinner would be off the grill in an hour and to set the table.

It was tough to be a Little Girl at times.

You were struggling to reach the top shelf and get the brown sugar when you heard the door open. Jesse’s spurs clinked behind you and you heard him call out, “Darlin’, where’s my lil’ girl?”

“In here, Daddy. I can’t reach the brown sugar!” You kicked the bottom cabinet door angrily. “Can you help me?”

He sauntered in and dropped a paper grocery back on the kitchen table. “Let me get that for ya, darlin’.”

You took the brown sugar and measured out the quarter cup for the baked beans on the burner. “Where were you, Daddy?”

He flushed. “Oh, jus’ out.” You pouted at him again, but he ignored it. “Remember, I gotta finish yer birthday stuff. Just a couple more days ‘till the big day.”

“Oh! Really?!” You bounced happily. “What’s going on? What did you—?”

“Now, hold on, lil’ girl,” he smirked. “I gotta turn th’ ribs on th’ smoker.”

“Daddy!”

He laughed, ignoring you as you bounced around. The ribs were rubbed with his special spices and the air was filled with the scent of carefully smoked meat. He stirred the beans and helped you shuck the corn so that it could be boiled. There was even some fresh bread.

The cowboy finally declared the ribs were done and brought them in with a huge grin on his face. “Ya ready for these? They’re gonna be amazin’.” He jutted his chin at the burners and the steaming pots. “Yer stuff better be ready, ‘cause these are just perfect.”

Dinner was amazing—as usual. Somehow Jesse always managed to get the meat so tender that you could practically cut it with a spoon. Ribs were his specialty and he kept his ultra special, super-secret spice rub mix in a bright red shaker on the top shelf—deliberately where you couldn’t reach it. It was almost sad to have to clean up such a nice meal, but that was one of your chores—to clean up after dinner and put the dishes in the dishwasher.

Jesse poured himself a whiskey and sat outside to smoke yet another cigar. He was still there when you came out. “Hey, darlin’. Ya comin’ out fer some fresh air?”

“Daddy, where is my reader?”

“Where did ya put it?” he snickered. That was his typical answer when you said you lost something.

“You had it,” you pouted. “You took it at lunch.”

“Maybe I left it at th’ range.” He shrugged. “Don’ worry—I’ll go and get it in a bit.” He smiled. “Let me get done here an’ I’ll head out there an’ find it.” He shrugged and went back to smoking his cigar. “Ya just be patient.”

“Daddy!”

“Lil’ girl, ya jus’ be patient.” He shot a warning glance at you. “Yer sure getting antsy.” He smiled and tugged your arm. You stepped closer and he grabbed your waist, lifting you to straddle his lap without effort. You squirmed on his lap—his strength always took your breath away and aroused you. “What ‘re ya so worried about anyway?”

You looked down at his smiling face as you wriggled your butt across his lap. With a sheepish grin and shrug, you flushed, “I...kinda don’t want anyone to see it.”

He smiled lazily and reached up to run a finger down your nose. “I’m guessin’ ya don’ want Han ta see it.”

You blushed and nodded, looking away. “Yeah. I don’t.” You shuddered and your cheeks felt like they were even hotter. “I really don’t want him to see...well, you know.”

He cocked his head thoughtfully. “That’s real personal fer you, ain’t it?”

“Yeah. I mean...Hanzo.... He never would do anything like that—.”

“Oh really?” Jesse smiled with an arc of his eyebrow. “Ya asked ‘im?”

You shook your head and giggled. Looking into his brown eyes, you smiled, “No, silly Daddy. I never would.”

“So?”

You sighed heavily. “He’d never do anything like—at least, not now. He’s...safe, I guess. All straight and narrow. I mean, I know he’s safe—that is—safe for me to hang out with.” You felt suddenly thoughtful for a moment. For just a moment, it was like contemplating a caged tiger—beautiful to look at but somehow sad because it is constrained too. “And I don’t think that he’d ever...ever hurt me. In fact, I know he’d never hurt me. And he’d be upset if he thought that anyone was thinking anything like that about him.”

“But?” He smirked and flicked the ash off his cigar. “Tell Daddy, lil’ girl.”

“We are only just now getting along. It’s taking forever for us to get to know each other—even longer for him to respect me.”

“An’ ya respect him.”

“Yeah,” you nodded. “I don’t want anything to happen to that. I mean, you and he are Elite Level—first ones called to the battle. You all are heroes and famous and all that—practically blood brothers.” You shrugged. “I guess I’m a little jealous, but mostly, I don’t want to make things weird.” You frowned. “And nothing would make it more weird than going ‘Hey, I’ve been fantasizing about your being a crime lord and all and I want you to fuck me silly’.” You sniffled. “That would get so awkward—or worse, get you drummed out for inappropriate conduct or sexual harassment or something. Talk about weird.” You look up at the cowboy with a curious and anxious look on your face. “You’re not weirded out or anything? Not mad at me for being so weird?”

“Course not. I wouldn’t be mad at ya for tellin’ me th’ truth.” He shrugged casually, turning his head briefly to puff out a smoke ring. “And I really ‘ppreciate that you’re tellin’ me this.” He held your hands. “And ya know what excites ya is mighty interestin’ to me.”

“I don’t want anything to get weird,” you frowned. “I mean...you have a life here. You’ve gotten full pardons—mostly—and you’re an important part of the team.”

“Yer th’ most important part o’ me, lil’ girl.”

“Thanks, Daddy.” You kissed his nose. “You’re the most important part of my life. The best Daddy in the world.” 

“But?”

“But...isn’t it wrong—that I like lookin’ at someone else too?”

“Course not. It means yer eyes work and ya’ve got red blood in your veins.” He kept smiling at you in his kindly way. “Yer lookin’ a little pouty, lil’ girl.” He cocked his head. “Ya sad about somethin’? Maybe sad about Han—.”

“No,” you whispered. “But I am kinda lonely.”

He smiled. “Ya need ta be patient. I told ya I’d get yer book thingie.” He tapped your nose. “And yer birthday—I gotta do some heavy-duty plannin’ fer that.” He cocked his head. “Can’t forget yer birthday.” His megawatt smile flashed. “An’ I wanna make all yer fantasies come true for ya.”

“Just hurry back, Daddy.” You pouted in the sexy way that he liked as you scooted off his lap. He brushed off and stood up, crushing the cigar in the clay pot of sand beside his chair. “I’m so lonely when you’re not here.”

“I’ll hurry.”

The next day after work and the endless piles of filing and copying and stapling that waited for you there, you got back to the small apartment that you and Jesse shared.

Tonight, Jesse brought out some chicken breasts that he had marinated with sliced jalapeños, limes, parsley, cilantro, and a healthy dose of tequila and lime juice. He pulled out the breasts and salted them before throwing them on the grill.

“Lil’ girl,” he called out. “Honeybee, ya got th’ tortillas ready? These are about ta come off.”

“Yes, Daddy!” You pulled out the foil wrapped packages of tortillas and gave the black beans a stir. The cheese—a salty and tangy queso fresco—was already crumbled into little bits and you had an open can of the pico de gallo that Jesse had shown you how to make the past summer when the peppers were firm and green, the tomatoes bloody red, the cilantro crisp and fresh, and the onions sweet.

Jesse strolled in with the platter of chicken breasts. “Ya got it all ready?”

You nodded as you set out the plates and the silverware. Jesse nodded as you set out iced sweet tea and set out the trimmings. “Do we have avocados?”

“‘Course, lil’ girl,” he smiled. “Got ‘em this mornin’. But a sweet lil’ girl like ya’ can’t handle a knife, so I’ll get ‘em.” He pulled out a knife and sliced open the avocado, whipping the blade around the pit and then prying the halves apart. With a sharp movement, he dug the knife into the pit and spun it until the pit came out. Tossing the pit, he sliced the green meat into thin slices and then he popped the slices out and fanned them out on a saucer. Wiping the knife, he set it in the sink. “Be careful gettin’ th’ dishes, okay, sweetheart?”

The grilled chicken tacos with their fresh toppings hit the spot and Jesse was inordinately happy with how well they turned out. He actually preened as you praised them, leaning back in his seat as you cleaned up the table and put the rest of the pico in the fridge. “We need to do more pico this summer, Daddy.” He nodded, wiping his bristly face with the napkin. “It’s going fast. What do you think?”

“Ya surely know how ta set a good table,” he remarked idly, watching as you washed the table.

“It’s your cooking,” you smiled. “Where did you learn?”

“Awww, shucks, darlin’,” he blushed. “Way out there, it’s learn ta cook or starve. I learnt quick ta make do and enjoy it when I could find good vittles.” He shrugged. “But I want my lil’ girl ta be healthy, so I make sure that I got lots of fresh veggies.”

“You do take good care of me, Daddy,” you replied honestly.

“Well, I do what I can,” he smirked. “And now I’m pleased as punch ta take ya ta bed.”

With a swoosh, he scooped you up in his thickly muscled arms, making you feel like a very little girl indeed. He carried you to the bedroom and waited as you took his armor off and put it on its stand. While he normally did not allow you to handle the Peacekeeper, he did insist that you know how to unload it and put it in its place safely. Then he watched you put the long leather ammo belt on its hook again.

“Ya ready ta make yer Daddy happy, darlin’?”

“Yeah, Daddy,” you whispered with a flush on your cheeks.

“Now, lil’ girl,” he smiled. “Come on over and undress Daddy.”

You sauntered over and stood on your tiptoes to untie the bandana from around his neck. Next came the heavy serape that he wore over his chest. As big as he was, the serape could be practically be a full torso covering for you. The serape was put onto a heavy hanger. You began unbuttoning the shirt and exposing his broad, hair-covered chest.

You couldn’t resist running your fingers through the crinkly brown hair on his body. “You look great, Daddy.” Leaning close, you nuzzled his huge pecs. “You...smell amazing.”

“Aw, shucks, darlin’,” he smiled. “Ya could turn a man’s head like that.”

He reached down and undid his pants, letting them drop to the floor. You loved that he went commando here on base. Quickly, you let your own clothes fall. His fingers gently traced your lips as your fingers kept running through the short, coarse hairs on his body.

“Yer a real nice lookin’ girl,” he smiled as he bent to kiss the top of your head. “Y smell nice, too. Like flowers.”

You giggled as he went to sit on the edge of the bed. His huge, thick cock bobbed between his legs and you went to kneel between them. With a smile, he put a huge finger underneath your chin and look into your face. “Now, yer my lil’ girl and ya wanna make yer Daddy happy, right?” You nodded eagerly. “So, take this slow. Start with the head in yer mouth.”

You took the head in your mouth, your hand wrapping around the shaft gently. The big man smiled as you sucked on it like a lollipop. The tip grew red as you licked it and the cowboy settled back with a purr.

“Don’t go too fast, lil darlin’,” he smirked. “Ya need to go slow.” His huge hand stroked your face. “I don’ want ya t’ choke or nothin’ again.”

You nodded slowly, your mouth full. Jesse said the same thing each time that you did this, urging you to go slow and carefully. Opening your mouth more, your lips slid down the shaft only a hair more eagerly than Jesse might normally want.

“Little girl,” he smirked even though his eyes narrowed in warning. “Yer still goin’ a bit fast. Don’t want ya to choke.” With gentle hands, he pushed you gently away. Your mouth pulled back with a slick pop. He tapped your nose with a bit of a frown as your impatient fingers still wrapped around his shaft. “Ya better listen to yer daddy.”

You nodded, wiping your mouth. “But Daddy! I’m really eager.”

“No lil’ girl,” he said with a stern look. “I want ya ta listen ta me.” He stroked his cock. “It’d be a shame if ya couldn’t have this, wouldn’t it?” You nodded again with a pout. “Try doin’ just yer tongue.” Leaning in, you stuck out your tongue and began licking from the base to the cherry red tip, looking up at his face from between his legs. He watched you with narrowed eyes, as you kept licking him. As soon as he relaxed, you leaned in to take his cock back in your greedy mouth, suckling him as deep as you could. He growled and pushed you back again. “Now, don’ make me get my belt out.”

You pouted again, running your fingers over his thick thighs. He growled in warning, finally letting you go again. You licked and lapped at his cock and balls like a cat. His musky scent was intoxicating and taste was incredible spreading across your tongue. It made your thighs clench and blood boil to taste him. His eyes closed—mostly—and nodded at you, stroking your hair. Experimenting, you gently scratched his hairy thighs, smiling as he growled. “Everything okay, Daddy?”

He grunted angrily, wrapping his fingers in your hair. Pulling and guiding you, he pulled you just far enough back that you couldn’t reach him with your mouth—only with your tongue.

“Ya should know, darlin’,” he grinned, leaning back on the bed. “Just gettin’ comfortable.” He patted the bed. “Come on up, baby. I wanna make ya feel good too.”

You were eager to climb up beside Jesse and lay down. The cowboy rolled over and pushed the hair away from your face. “Yer so beautiful, darlin’,” he crooned in a whiskey rough voice.

Scooting down himself, he wrapped his big hands around your thighs to spread them. Licking your breasts like a big dog, he smiled as you ruffled his hair. “I gotta make sure yer ready, lil’ girl.”

You sighed impatiently and wriggled on the bed. “You say that every time, Daddy.”

“N’ I mean it every time.” He gripped his heavy cock and rubbed it on the outside of your leg. “I know I’m a big man. I don’ wanna hurt my lil’ girl by goin’ too fast.”

His thick, rough finger scraped your clit as he smirked down at you. You moaned and wriggled on the bed as his finger kept strumming your slit. Your anxious fingers grabbed his wrist, holding it close as he kept worrying the little patch. Slick, hot and thick, pooled between your legs.

He smiled at you, puffing a small alcohol laced breath across your breasts. There was nothing like his excited little girl on his bed. He lapped at a tight nipple as you squirmed. The tip of his finger stroked you gently, letting your slick coat his finger. With a slow and careful movement, he put the tip inside as you. You gasped wildly, gripping his hands and digging your nails into his skin.

He clucked his tongue and you released him shakily. Jesse suckled your breast, listening to your whimpering and stroking your clenching belly. Dark fire started flowing through your veins as he traded one breast for the other.

“Oh Daddy!” The cry was wrenched from your gut and you were desperate. “Please!”

“Daddy always takes care of his lil’ girl,” he replied. “Now take a deep breath, lil girl. Ya need ta relax....” You did take a deep, shaky breath and he slid his finger in as far as it would go. As big as he was, he scraped your womb almost a quarter inch before his knuckle hit your groin. “Let me take care o’ ya right.”

You nodded wildly. His finger gently curled, making your body shake. He pulled back slightly and slid it back in smoothly. Your keening cry echoed in the room—his slow thrusting was making your stomach clench and your muscles tighten. “Please more, Daddy.”

He shook his head a little wickedly. “Not ‘til ya cum fer me.”

You looked up wildly at him. “But Daddy, that could take all night!”

“Now, now,” he chided. “Yer gettin’ a lil rowdy.” You shook your head with a gasp. “Don’ make me—.”

“I’m a big girl! I can take you in right now! Please do it now!” you demanded suddenly.

He recoiled a bit. “What?”

You panted, “Do it.” You gripped his hand, trying to push and force his finger in deeper. “I wanna... wanna be—.” You screamed as his finger curled. “Do it, Daddy. I want you right now!”

“Don’t ya know how ta ask nicely, lil’ girl?” He grinned as you whined. “Ya know I don’ like cussin’ or bad manners in my bed.”

You shook your head wildly. Digging your heels in, you bucked hard into his finger. It scraped in so deep that you screamed. Jesse hissed and pulled back a bit. Frustration echoed in your voice as you begged, “Fuck me, Daddy! Fuck me hard!”

“Don’t cuss now, lil’ girl,” he rasped in warning. “I don’ wanna have ta punish ya.”

You shook your head again. “Don’t want you to.”

Jesse growled slightly. His other hand wriggled up and a finger traced the side of your throat. Your eyes flared with passion and your body twisted. “I know yer hotspots girl.” You shook your head. “Oh yeah—I know yer hotspots and how ta make ya scream.”

To prove his point, he wrapped a massive hand around your throat. Your skin on your neck was immensely sensitive and you loved it when he grabbed it. It made you wild—the feel of his mechanical hand that could wield any gun with ease and crush your throat almost without effort—wrapped snugly and gently around your windpipe. As always, you wanted it harder and more and harsher and you bucked up towards his hand.

“More—fuck! More goddamn it!” Your climax was so very close and you kicked as hard as you could to force his finger in as hard as you could get it. “Fuck! Fuck! Fuck!”

“Lil’ girl!” he barked sharply as he tried to pull back. “I told ya ‘bout cussin. Yer achin’ fer a beatin’.”

“Don’t...,” you hissed, bucking more on his hand. His hand trembled around your neck letting go and drawing back. With a rough flex of his muscles, he pulled his hand out of your grasp and left your throbbing core empty. “No, Daddy! I’m so fucking close.”

He puffed out a breath. “Lil girl!” He hissed at your wild thrusting. “I done changed my mind.” His eyes narrowed. “Turn over on th’ bed.”

You glared back at him and grabbed for his hand as he pulled back. “Put it back, you fucking—!”

“Oh, yah poked th’ pig in th’ ass now!” He grabbed you and whipped his arm, almost turning you completely over with just that jerk and it knocked a breath out of you. “Turn over and get yer punishment.” You scrambled to turn the rest of the way over. “Ya been askin’ fer this.”

You didn’t know whether to be scared or to be even more aroused, but you did as he told you. “Daddy!”

He stalked over to get one of his belts. You nervously glanced over your shoulder—at least he wasn’t going to get one of the ones that had the heavy shells on it. He also passed by the one with the heavy metal buckle and metal grommet reinforced buckle holes. Instead, he got an old one that was all worn soft leather. You knew that belt well—there were several impressions of your teeth along it where you had had it stuffed in your mouth for various infractions.

He folded the leather strap in half and snapped it with a crack. “I’m plumb worn out with yer demands, ‘n’ it’s time ya took yer punishment.”

With another snap of the leather, he was back beside the bed. “Look at yer Daddy, lil’ girl. Look at me when I speak ta ya.” You looked over at him. He always seemed taller and bigger, more muscular, when he was standing over your body on the bed. Deceptively gently, he laid the belt across your back, watching as you shivered. “Now my lil’ girl is gonna learn herself some manners.”

“Yes, Daddy,” you whimpered, at last feeling the cold threads of fear.

The belt whipped to life like a rattler. With only a tiny fraction of his strength, he let it clap across you—not hard enough to harm you, but enough to sting and hurt. You shrieked as the red line appeared across your back. Then it slapped hard across your ass, raising a thick welt. It slapped down again and you shrieked again. “Now, lil’ girl, what ‘er ya gettin’ this fer?”

“‘Cause I asked for it,” you wailed.

“What’d ya say?” He swung the belt in the air like a whip and it cracked over you. “I cain’t hear ya if’n yer gonna be rude.”

“I asked for it, Daddy!”

“What did ya do?”

“I cussed and I didn’t listen to you and I tried to go too rough.” 

“Anythin’ else?”

You shivered again. “I didn’t listen when you warned me.” 

He frowned above you. “Were ya askin’ fer yer punishment?”

“I was asking for it.” You mewled softly, wriggling on the bed. “I did ask for it.”

“Ya did,” he nodded, cracking it again. With another twist of his wrist, it snapped across your skin again. “An’ I’m gonna—.” Another crack. “—give my darlin’ what she’s been askin’ for.”

The belt wrapped into a hasty coil and landed like a snake beside you. You recoiled like it was a hissing rattler. Instantly your Daddy put a huge hand down, and his mammoth hand covered almost your entire waist. “Now, lil’ girl, I’m not sure ya know yer rules.”

He put a huge knee on the bed beside you. “I’m yer daddy and yer my lil’ girl.” You nodded nervously. “I make th’ rules. Ya obey th’ rules.” His other hand slapped your ass. “If’n I say ya fly, ya ask how high.” There was another crack and you wailed shakily and wriggled your ass. “And if’n I wanna go slow ‘n’ steady, then ya better like it.”

You nodded wildly, your clit pulsing with a heartbeat of its own in time with the throbbing of the stripes on your body. Your cunt ached and you arched your back more to show him the dripping slick. “I know, Daddy!”

He smirked wickedly. “Now, if’n I wanna do somethin’—I will.” He paddled you one more time. “I can do anythin’ I want. I take care of ya. I feed ya. I make sure that ya have a good place ta sleep. I make sure ya get presents on yer birthday ‘n’ everythin’.”

You whined softly as his cool hand went over the welts gently again. “I don’ cotton to beatin’ just fer beatin’. But I’ll sure as heck will make sure ya do what’s right.”

His metallic hand was cool against your hot welts, soothing them and still feeling electric. You nodded blankly. “I’m sorry Daddy.” He glared at you meaningfully. “I’m so sorry.”

After another long moment, he nodded slowly. “I don’ like punishin’ ya.” Dropping the belt to the floor, he stroked your back again. “And I don’ like when ya are all stroppy.”

“I’m sorry Daddy.”

He stroked you again, letting his metallic hand dip into your moisture. The heat between your legs pooled and made you feel warm. The rough hand of the gunslinger made you want him. The frustration made you restless. “Daddy...please.”

“Hell, I guess I can’t stay too mad at ya.” He smirked as you arched your back, offering your sopping core. “Ya know that I like ya bein’ all nice ‘n’ soft.” His voice was gruff when he said, “Yer such a good girl when yer bein’ nice.”

You nodded restlessly, resisting the urge to wriggle. “Daddy, I’ll be good.”

“Durn right, ya will,” he snorted. He climbed between your legs, grinding against you so hard you could feel the scrape of his coarse hair against your skin. “Now, in case I wasn’t completely clear—I’m gonna make sure ya obey me.”

His finger was a welcome intrusion between your legs, sliding slickly inside. You twisted on the bed, feeling his finger crook. The soft, wet place inside that he scraped made you whine. He pushed harder inside, until you felt his rough knuckles scraping your clit.

“Lil’ girl,” he whispered. “Do ya understand that I’m gonna do what I think’s best?” You nodded slowly. “I go slowly so ya don’ get hurt.”

He pulled his finger out quickly and pushed in his hot cock in its place with a slow and steady scrape. You gasped as he leaned over you and put his hands on each side of your body. Without thinking, you wrapped your arms blindly to hook his and pulled back against him.

“Ya backwards lil’ girl,” he sighed, pushing in deeper. You slick swamped him and you couldn’t help but grind back towards him. “Ya should wanna go slow ‘n’ when I’m careful, ya go bristly on me. Ya should freeze on me if’n I bring out m’ belt, and ya go bananas like ya it was th’ hottest thing I could do.”

“I’m sorry!” You whined and bucked up against him again. He slid forward again, relishing the satisfied sighing that rumbled out of you and the shiver that gripped his cock. He slid forward again as you clamped down on him. He pulled back as you let out a soft cry. Overcome, you couldn’t help but sob, “I’m sorry I’m backwards, Daddy.”

“Darlin’,” he smiled as his thrusts became smooth and slick. “Yer my lil’ girl ‘n’ I love ya no matter how backwards ya are.”

You bucked and whined. “Daddy...please.” You were shaking. The pleasure was forcing your breath out and making you see stars as he went faster. “Daddy, I’m sorry.” He thrust even faster, his breath whistling between his teeth. “I-I-I’m sorry Daddy.”

“Oh honey,” he panted as the flames licked him as well. His legs shook and his cock throbbed. His little girl was about the sweetest little piece of fluff he had ever found and here she was falling apart all in his arms on his bed. “I jus’ can’t stay mad at such a sweet lil’ girl.”

“Go fast—can you go faster Daddy? Please Daddy,” you begged shamelessly. You caught yourself just in time—asking for what you wanted instead of demanding. Daddy insisted on good manners. “Pretty please Daddy, could you go faster?”

“Yer just too sweet,” he smirked. “Why don’t ya move too?”

You gathered your legs up under you, relieved to finally get permission. With a slow push, you felt him bottom out, unbelievably deep inside you. “It’s so deep, Daddy.”

“I know baby.”

You pushed upward again. “It’s so big, too.” It was big—as big as the legend of the man himself. Your cunt stretched tight around him and you felt so small, so tight and tiny. The scraping felt like tongues of heat. “So, so big, Daddy.”

He laughed roughly, like whiskey running over gravel. “Yer so small, lil’ girl.” He sped up, feeling you clench tighter and buck harder. “All...nice..’n’ tight.”

You nodded blankly, pushing harder against him. The burning hot was drawing you closer and closer to your climax. It was too much—he was too big, moving too fast and you were so tight and small. Pleasure crumpled your brain, whipping through your legs and making you feel like you were on fire. You bucked harder, making the mattress squeal.

“So tiny,” he panted in your ear. You whined wordlessly and scrambled to push even harder against him. “Yer so excited, ya can’t control yerself.” He licked down your neck and felt your hips grinding, your body twisting. “This’s my favorite part—where yer all hot ‘n’ can’t stop.”

“Daddy!” you wailed. “I’m gonna come.”

“I know,” he hissed, nipping at your skin of your back. “I can feel ya.” You shivered, jerking on his cock. You were going pull and buck even more wildly, but Jesse grabbed your shoulder and pulled you back. “I ain’t lettin’ ya go.” He shook his head, his hair wild and sweaty. “Not without me.”

“Daddy!” You ground harder, bucking furiously underneath him. Without pausing for breath, you reached between your trembling legs to strum your aching clit. That struck lighting through you. “Daddy—ya need ta help me.”

“I will take care of ya,” he promised. His big hands came to your breasts, squeezing them. “I don’t leave my lil’ girl hangin’.” He cocked his head and slammed again against your legs. “Ya need a lil’ more, don’t ya?”

You nodded your head, rubbing your aching clit for all you were worth. His fingers pinched your nipples and he plowed into you hot and breathtakingly deep. “Please, Daddy—just a lil’ more.”

He nipped the back of your neck gently, his eyes gleaming as he felt you suddenly moaning and writhing beneath you. “That’s one o’ yer hotspots, ain’t it?” You nodded wildly, screeching and wriggling so hard that you were shaking the giant man above you. “I told ya it was, ya hot tamale.” You screamed and twisted as he nipped the back of your neck again, making the big man grunt. The sharp nip echoed down in your cunt, making it clench like it was making juice. He did it again and you felt like your slick was going to squirt out all over him. Releasing it, he kissed the little mark and lapped it. “Cum on Daddy’s cock, lil’ girl.”

You did cum hard on his cock, shrieking. You couldn’t help it—his husky voice drew you into your climax. Your twisting and turning inflamed Jesse, who tugged your breasts and snapped his hips into you. With a groan, you felt him buck and suddenly you felt his hot cum fill your cunt.

You both dropped like stones on the huge, messy bed. Instantly, his arms were around you, cuddling and cradling you close. Jesse smirked against the back of your neck, licking you. With a blind wail, you felt the arousal spike again and you ground your ass against him. “A-a-again, Daddy?”

“Naw, honey,” he whispered softly. “Not t’night. Don’ wanna wear my lil’ girl out.” His big hand came up and stroked your face and hair gently. “Now, ya need ta rest, don’t ya?” You nodded again, a big yawn coming out. “You ‘n’ I need ta get some sleep.”

“Am I a bad girl, Daddy?”

“Fer what?”

“For being all backwards.”

He smiled in the dark bedroom. “Yer jus’ perfect, lil girl.” His hand reached down and pulled up the blanket. “Just perfect fer me.”

“Really?” You sniffled, unexpectedly shaken. “I’m not...like defective or broken or something?” You sniffed again. “I mean, I am all backwards in the bed and I like being rough and I got the hots for your co-worker and—and—!”

His hand came gently up over your mouth. “Now, lil girl. Yer gettin’ all weepy on me and babblin’.” You felt him kiss your shoulder gently. “I love my lil girl just like she is. All backwards and with the hots for Han and ever’thin’.”

You nodded and felt the large man behind you cuddle your back. “I love you, Daddy.”

“I love ya too, honeybee.” His big hand brushed away your tears and stroked your hair out of your face. “An’ yer just perfect for me. Now, stop yer cryin’. Yer birthday’s comin’ and that’s gonna be fun—so think on that.” He kissed your head. “Shhh....just get some sleep.”

A few days later on your birthday, there was an endless supply of papers to file, copy and distribute. Tracer zipped by with a slice of strawberry cream cake with a pink candle in it and the few people in the cube farm came by to sing to you. There was the obligatory lunch on your supervisor’s dime—a nice enough meal at your favorite restaurant. Then back to the grind and more sorting and filing and copying and enough papers that were misfiled or misplaced or incorrect that you wanted to scream.

You were feeling decidedly out of sorts when you got back to the apartment. There was nothing you could put your finger on—just a strange feeling in your stomach—as you turned on the lamp in the living room. Jesse was nowhere to be found and the grill and smoker were cold and clean. The bedroom was actually clean—the bed made, the laundry in the hamper, the spare ammo belts hung up—and the sitting room was tidy. The only thing out of place was a tumbler of water that you left on your bedside table last night.

It was terribly lonely and Daddy hadn’t even left a birthday card. Last year, when you got home there was a huge stuffed cat holding a dozen roses and a card sitting on the bed. Daddy appeared and whisked you off somewhere to eat before coming home to strawberries and whiskey because he claimed that champagne gave him headaches.

You patted the stuffed cat in its place of pride in front of your dresser as you dropped your keys and things.

You wandered to the kitchen table, where you saw your reader. The smutty novel—“Innocent Taken By the Yakuza”—was queued up and visible. You pouted and sat down there to read some, but the page was not the same. You had stopped—actually, been stopped by Daddy dom Jesse—in the middle of the third chapter. Now the book was on the last page—the embarrassing one with about a half paragraph of text and then ads for the rest in the series, namely: “Bred by the Yakuza” and “Sold by the Yakuza” along with the thumbnails of the almost pornographic covers. You flicked the electronic book closed to view your e-library. There were several yakuza themed novels in throughout your library and all of them had been paged through.

Great. Now Daddy knew that this wasn’t a one-time thing—but a long time fantasy. You moaned softly, burying your red face in your hands. What would Daddy think? Would he be as lazily comfortable knowing that you also had the hots for his co-worker—not the silly puppy-love hots, but serious, I’m-gonna-go-crazy-if-I-don’t-fuck-him hots?

You would totally get if he did absolutely nothing for your birthday.

You groaned and took the reader to the bedroom. Tapping the screen restlessly, you flopped on the bed. Opening the chat app, you clicked out a quick message to Jesse and hoped that the cowboy would respond.

A half hour later, the sun was almost down and the bedroom was starting to darken. You were really getting restless—it wasn’t like Jesse to forget entirely unless he was on a mission. Had you forgotten a about a mission? Would Daddy miss your birthday for anything less?

Finally, a message came back: “Don’t worry, hon. Your surprise is coming. ;). Hope you will be too.”

“OK, Daddy. I can’t wait.”

“Surprise is coming in a few minutes.”

You were tapping out a reply when all of the lights went out. You were paralyzed for a moment in shock. What the heck had happened? It was base housing, so it wasn’t like there was an electric bill to forget. (Not that Daddy ever forgot those kinds of things—he was actually very OCD about it.) After that first breathless moment, you set aside the brightly lit tablet on the bed and peeked out of the bedroom door.

Yes—every light was off. It was actually creepy to see that every light—even the outside light on the patio—was off, but the small red numbers on the clock and the VCR clock was lit. The kitchen lights and appliances were off, but the microwave was on. You shook a little to see that the outside lights from the other patios were on and you could faintly see other lights from other patio doors.

Stumbling back to the bedroom, you saw that your tablet was lit up with Jesse’s reply.

“Hope you like your surprise. Took some doing, but I think I got it just right.”

Nervously—these kind of minor emergencies made you anxious for reasons you didn’t want to think about now—you tapped out a quick reply. “Daddy! The lights are off and I don’t know why!”

“Check the switch,” was his casual reply. That was followed quickly by “I’m going to be about two hours late, so just wait for me there. Keep reading your book—it was really fun.”

“Dadddy! Nothing happened! Scarde of the dark!” You didn’t bother checking the spelling—something Jesse harped on as an excuse to spank you a few times before hauling you to bed. “Scary scary dark.”

“Must be the circuit. I can’t help it. I’m still two hours out. Take a nap or something because you really want to be there when your surprise shows up.”

You nodded a little and tapped out “OK. Just let me know when you’re close”.

“Will do, my sweets little grill.” His texting was better English than his speech thanks to the wonders of autocorrect, but even that had limits. “Let me know if the surprise gets there before I do.”

“OK, Daddy. What is it?”

“Wouldn’t be a surprise then, wood it? *Would it? Damn autocorrect.” A pause. “But it’s something you asked me about.”

The tablet was the brightest thing in the room, which made you feel a bit better. Thumbing to your place in the novel, you read about a page and a half before you realized you weren’t actually reading it. That was a pity, too, because it was the chapter where the busty heroine was cornered by the hulking, tattooed gangster and this was usually where you really started to get wet and horny.

You went and fished a small candle out of the kitchen. It made you feel a little bit better to have that small pool of light in the bedroom and you were finally able to get into the novel. The writing was pretty good and finally you were riveted to the glowing screen as you devoured the words describing the yakuza peeling off the heroine’s clothes.

There was a rustling from the kitchen that was loud enough to catch your attention. You peeked nervously around the tablet, listening to the apartment noises. It wasn’t Jesse—there was no jangling of spurs or the warm smell of whiskey or tobacco to comfort you. You looked around shortly, hoping that it was your imagination again.

You saw the gray bubble that showed he was replying and you took a deep breath, hoping it was a message that he was actually here instead. But your tablet battery died at that moment. Shivering, you were positive you heard footsteps now and the only light was the little candle. At least that was good to go for a while.

“J-j-jesse?” Your voice quivered as you stood in the doorway. “D-d-daddy, is that-t-t you?”

There was no answer except for a soft step. Then not another sound. You shivered again, almost buckling. The faintest scent of sandalwood tickled your nose—definitely not the heavy bay rum and lime scented stuff that Jesse used.

You turned back towards the candle. That was obviously a misunderstanding or something. A circuit blew out and it was nothing to worry about. Jesse would be home soon and he would have a nice dinner and some dessert and a present. Maybe some earrings or a flashy dress or something. Maybe he got you the koneko ears and tail you saw online. Or maybe he would want to go on a little weekend trip with you.

You picked yourself up. You were a Little Girl with an absent Daddy, but you were also an adult. How hard could it possibly be to go flip a circuit breaker? You were fully able to cope for an hour or two until Daddy came back.

Right?

You were looking at the candle, trying to remember where the circuit box was when you felt muscular arms wrap around you, trapping your arms and squeezing a bit of air out of you. Looking down, they were in long, dark sleeves that covered some kind of wrist and forearm protection covering most of the hands.

You yelped wordlessly in your panic. Kicking ineffectively, you heard a soft sound behind you as the arms tightened again, yanking you up against a warm muscular form that dwarfed you. The little you could see of him was clothed in black from head to foot and when his face leaned close to your ear, it was covered in more dark cloth.

“Mada aru,” hissed a heavily accented voice. “Ugokanaide kudasai.”

You had heard the first part before—somewhere, maybe a movie or video game—but the second part was completely beyond you. You jerked unsteadily, and shook your head, whispering, “I-I-I don’t understand.”

“Don’t move,” he translated in his thickly accented voice.

You nodded your head wildly. “I’ll be good.”

“Yoi. Yoi,” he replied. You knew what that little word meant. “Good” was a common enough word that you saw in lots of the books you were reading. So, he was speaking Japanese—at least you could understand a little of what he said, even if it wasn’t enough.

The arms wrapped tighter yet as your knees crumpled. A hand clamped over your mouth to cover your screech. “Chinmoku!” he hissed, jerking your head a little.

You flailed helplessly, trying to reach something or to do something. Your nails scraped against him, but couldn’t get through the thick canvas or cotton or whatever his dark clothes were made of. Instead, it seemed to make him angry and he shoved you towards the bed.

The side of the bed slid into your legs and you were bent over it, pressed into the mattress. For a brief moment, your arms were free, but he grabbed your wrists and tied them behind your back lightning fast. A strong hand pressed a small cloth pouch filled with rice or beans or something was stuffed into your mouth and a long piece of dark fabric was wrapped around it, keeping it there.

Now, your shrieks were completely muffled. You twisted and writhed as the warm hands gripped your waist and tugged your legs apart. He wedged himself between your thighs as your legs kicked weakly. His rumbling laugh echoed through you as his hands trailed up and down your body as your heart hammered wildly.

Behind you, a knife slid out from its sheath with a metallic ring and you froze. The cold steel flashed in the corner of your vision and it slid deftly underneath the neckline of your shirt. With a soft hiss—which was more noise than you could make at the moment—it sliced the fabric open. Another slice down from your shoulder to your bound wrist and the shirt fell open in the back all the way to your waist. Another slice on the other shoulder, and it was tugged off of you entirely.

Your body shivered, shuddering uncontrollably as you began weeping. The base was compromised and Daddy was gone and you would never see him again. The man behind you was stroking you and you wanted to do more than the token struggling you had managed so far. At least show the bastard what for. You twisted to one side and hit something with your head—the hard plastic corner of the book reader. You froze, staring at it, and suddenly it all clicked for you.

Your novel—the one you were reading.

The warm sandalwood fragrance was suddenly comforting to you, familiar now that you had figured it out. The hands that were sliding the knife down the legs of your shorts to slice them off of you were warm and...incredibly strong and overpowering. Even the sounds of the knife being sheathed and the crinkle of some kind of packaging was exciting now.

You yelped—despite realizing what was happening—as the fabric covering you was pulled away. His hands ran up and down your body possessively and now you couldn’t help but moan as the huge hands squeezed your bare ass.

“Kireina,” the voice behind you said, and you shivered at the deep, husky whisper. There were more words in rapid, beautiful Japanese. Then there was the soft shush of fabric rustling. The warm hard cock that rubbed against your hip was comforting in its insistent demand. Then came the stilted and accented, “I am going to fuck you now, whore.”

You shook your head in a playful refusal. His hand came and slapped your ass. Gripping your hips firmly, he jerked you into position. You folded your legs underneath you eagerly now, curling your back like a cat in season. He laughed softly and took his cock in hand, rubbing its dry heat all over your backside.

You wriggled your ass gently, settling on your knees. You could feel his dick and soft balls sliding against your hips and thighs. He sucked in a sharp breath and before you could think, he slapped your ass with a crack, snapping “Mada aru!”

You whimpered and nodded, figuring that it meant something along the lines of “be still” or “don’t do that” or something. Actually, you had no idea what it meant, but you were unable to reply anyway, so it mattered less than it might have otherwise. So, you nodded as you felt him gather up your hair and hold it in his fist.

Hanzo tightened his fist slowly, waiting until you grimaced slightly. It would not do to scare you too badly, although you didn’t seem to be as terrified as you were. He drug a rough finger down your slit to your clit, rubbing it firmly. Within a few seconds, he could feel it swell and harden with an unmistakeable excitement that quickly scented the air with a musky sweetness. Sure enough, as his finger wandered from that sensitive bundle of nerves, it was quickly becoming wet. You shivered as his finger dipped gently inside, your eyes fluttering closed and you let out a slightly strangled moan.

You whined as his hands stroked your back and then went underneath to your breasts. Gently, his rough fingers pinched your nipples, making them suddenly feel more sensitive and aching. Bucking unexpectedly, your movement forced his fingers into pulling the tight nubs. When a moan tumbled around the gag, he laughed behind you and did it again deliberately.

“Anata wa motto hoshidesu ka?” the archer whispered in your ear with a smile in his voice. He shucked off the heavy hand guards and the heavy shirt, tossing them on the floor. With a practiced move, he slid the condom on. “Do you want more?”

You nodded, arching your back wantonly against his skin. He let out a strangled sound and gripped your hips again. You wanted to tell him that you were ready, that you felt the boiling heat and the moist slick between your legs. His hands planted on each side of your shoulders and you almost came from looking at the strong arm with the colorful dragon tattoo curling around it.

Ever so slowly, you felt the tip kiss your core. You yipped happily as he slowly pressed forward. He was filling you so achingly slowly, so slowly, that you were shaking with it. He curled his hips leisurely, murmuring in softly in Japanese as you got used to the feel of him filling you. You ached to wrap your legs around him, but there was no way that you could from this position. When you tried to turn, he grabbed your hips and jerked you around—lifting you off the bed entirely—until you were still again. You let out a strangled sound of frustration.

He laughed at that little sound and smacked your ass again. Your response was another strangled sound as you bucked back against him, driving him deeper. You shivered—the feeling vibrating through you and into him—and then did it again. He backed away, smirking at the frustrated whine and your sudden shake. One hand slid from your bucking hip to your breast and squeezed you gently.

Your breasts and nipples were wonderfully sensitive. Every time he brushed them, you twitched. If he gently pinched them, you would moan and buck against them. He smirked and took one in each hand. Gently closing his fingers around the nipples, he pulled them up. Instantly, you pulled away from him. He was amused at your frustrated whine at the shallow kiss of his aching cock. Then he pulled down and you nodded frantically as you slid back down and were impaled by his dick.

Up and down and up and down. He started you slowly, mercifully slowly, as the tight tips of your breasts throbbed in his fingers. What was worse—he drug them along the sheets of the bed which made them pulse with the rasping friction. The driving need to go harder and faster was frustrated by his grip. You squealed in frustration as slick coated your thighs. You needed to go faster as you chased your pleasure and he was stopping you! When you tried to defy him and grind against him, his grip tightened just enough that you regretted it.

With a last sharp tug, he loosened his grip. Your hips kept pumping against him blindly as you chased your climax. Slowly, he let one hand trail up to your shoulder. Hanzo knew a hundred ways to grip, to strangle, and to hurt. He knew in every fiber of his being that he could still scare you, hurt you and he would never forgive himself for letting you come to harm. Still, the cowboy said—encouraged him—to gently squeeze the back of your neck and stroke the sensitive skin under the nape of your hair. So, slowly, broadcasting his move in a way that he never would have when he actually was a yakuza, he drug his fingers from your shoulder to the back of your neck.

You stilled for a breathless moment as his fingers went to one side and his thumb slid to the other. Your head cocked up, thrown back breathlessly and you shook underneath him. Rubbing his thumb along your neck, he gasped as you jerked your head further up and deeper into his grasp and nodded wildly. Your cunt clamped around his cock, making the aching in his body even worse.

He took a deep breath, letting it slowly hiss past your ear. Then, ever so gently, he squeezed the pulses in your neck.

You exploded, squealing and bucking against him, burying him all the way to the hilt and keening for more. He lost his grip for a moment as you began slamming against his hips. His breath hissed out as you wildly thrashed up and down on his cock. That just made his blood boil even harder as you uncontrollably fucked him.

Jerking his hand away, he clawed the sheets to get a grip. Unfortunately, your wildness caused him to slide out and you screeched around the gag. Tears ran down your cheeks and your frustrated moaning filled his ears. He would not forget the sound of your muffled begging.

He almost forgot to switch to Japanese again. “Be still—Mada aru!” Then he realized that it did not matter to you as you all but wept beneath him, grinding your hips to find him. “Shhh.... Koneko, let me control you.”

You curled tighter and nodded slightly. One hand grabbed the back of your neck and the other grabbed your breast. Slowly, you nodded, calming as he massaged the back of your neck. “Now, hold on,” Hanzo whispered against your hair.

With a slick sound, he slid back inside. Leaning forward and assuming a stronger stance, he gripped the back of your neck again. You shuddered again, tensing in a way that he knew meant that you were about to start thrusting again, and he gripped your nipple tightly.

That calmed you down a little. Your body still shook as you bucked against his hips. Pulling on your delicious nipple, he pulled you back and forth. He couldn’t help chuckling against your back as you fought to thrust even faster. But for all of your fighting, you did not stop fucking him as hard as he would allow.

This was happening too fast, to quickly. He had meant to pleasure you slowly, to give you hours of sensual fantasy. Now your grinding was threatening to push him to climax at a breakneck pace. His cock throbbed, aching as he fought to hold on to you. Without meaning to, his thumb dug into that pulsing vein in the side of your neck.

You gasped wildly against his hand, nodding frantically and strangled words bubbling out. There was an answering pulse in your cunt and you couldn’t help but clench down on the cock inside of you in an effort to squash it. His rough thumb stroked up and down your neck, making you shiver and whine as he gently squeezed. It rocked through you, giving you the heightened feeling of almost threat—almost like choking, but utterly benign.

His thrusting kept at its steady thumping rhythm and it was unbearably too slow. Whining, you tried to burble out a protest, to try and beg, but the pouch kept your words locked inside. When you pulled away, trying to get him to go faster, he only gripped your nipple tighter. When you stubbornly refused to thrust at all, he scraped the sensitive skin along you neck with his roughly calloused fingers to goad you on. He knew all of your most sensitive secrets that could force you to do exactly what he wanted.

The man braced himself—you could feel the forward pressure as he leaned against your hips. Your shaking head and your tears could not convince him to finish you off. Gingerly, you straightened out one leg off the bed. His body was so hot, so steady as you arched your back even deeper with your toes on the floor. He grunted, tugging on your nipple and palming your breast.

You shook in wicked desire, waiting for the inevitable plunge. He whispered harshly in Japanese too fast and too furious as his hands gripped harder. It was as good as a gag—you had no idea of what he said—but you nodded in frantic agreement anyway. Even when he pulled another length of fabric from somewhere and tied a loop the ankle that remained on the bed and then the rest of the fabric to the bands around your wrists, you were nodding and whining. When he tugged that bound and bent leg out, exposing you more, your core only tightened around him and wept tears of thick slick.

“You cannot escape,” he whispered as he gripped your neck.

You nodded, whining and crying. Escape was the very last thing on your mind, even though you tugged at the bindings. He couldn’t hear you, he couldn’t understand that you wanted to be here and how much you wanted to beg for him to keep going. You twisted wildly, trying to fight the gag and explain, but it was tied too tightly, too well.

Again he set a steady rhythm, pulling back and thrusting forward until his thick cock was scraping you deliciously deep. You had no leverage at all except for a tiny bit as your toes scraped the floor. Completely at his mercy, you sobbed into the gag. You felt his hands release you briefly only to settle one on your hip and the other behind your neck.

This time he was expecting your reaction as his hand settled around your sensitive neck. You tugged against it slightly and he squeezed gently. You screamed and went ballistic. Despite his superior strength and leverage, he was shocked at your rocking and squirming as you chased your pleasure. Squatting slightly, he all but leapt forward and let his cock ram deep inside.

You screeched in pleasure, trying to buck. You hooked your free leg around him weakly, but he stepped out of it as he rammed you again. His hands gripped you and steered you into a punishing rhythm as his hips snapped faster and faster. You came with a harsh and guttural cry.

His stomach growled and tightened as he kept going, riding your wild thrusts like you were a racehorse. He leaned over you, still gripping your neck. “I will ride you until you drop,” he whispered with dark promise. Your back curled deeper, forcing his cock to scrape you harder as you nodded wildly. Desperately, he pulled you closer to him and moaned as you finally found a way to buck against him.

It was an electric shock when he bit your shoulder—so much harder than Jesse’s nips. For a blinding hot moment, you stilled and cried out, but there was no difference now between whatever pain he inflicted on you and the pleasure that was coursing through you. His punishing pace blistered you into another fiery high. You shuddered again and he plowed into you faster, chasing his own pleasure as much as yours.

He worried at the skin on your shoulder, teasing it between his teeth and sucking on the skin until he saw the red mark blooming on your skin. His tongue scraped over it and he felt you shudder. “I have marked you for my own, koneko.”

You clamped around him and he could feel you tensing. His grip tightened briefly again and you wailed. His eyes saw stars as you screamed around the gag again. Then the floor dropped out from underneath him as he felt you cum again and then he let his own climax overtake him. The growl was ripped out of him, traveling from his toes to his chest and bursting out his cock.

You both collapsed in a sweaty heap on the bed. He slid off of you and groaned as he hit the bed. He pulled off the condom and dropped it into the trash can. You were silent and still at last, sweating on the bed in your half-kneeling posture. Shakily, he knelt on the bed and untied the gag. Surprisingly, even when he dropped the cloth from around your face, you did not immediately spit it out. He untied your wrists and your bent leg—that did get a reaction and you stretched out briefly before curling into your kneeling posture again.

He sighed softly against your ear, “You can relax.” He grinned as you shuddered, but otherwise didn’t move. “The....” He waved indefinitely, searching for a word. “The playtime is over.” You only whimpered softly in response. He fumbled around until he found a quilt and pulled it over you. Cocking an eyebrow and he slid on his pants. “Rest. I will turn on the lights again.”

That did prompt a response—a slight shake of your head and a soft whine. He snorted and took up the small candle. “Just a moment, shojo. I need to reset the breaker.” You whimpered softly and he sighed. “You are afraid of the dark?” 

You nodded slowly and was surprised when he chuckled. “My brother was afraid too.” You let out two soft sounds, which he took to be his brother’s name. “Yes, Genji was afraid of the dark and he was always coming to me to make him feel better.” He rubbed your shoulder clumsily. “If it will help you feel better, then I will leave the candle.”

You heard his steps walk around the apartment and then saw the lights come on. Dizzily, you raised your head and looked around. He came back in with a slight swagger and he sat down on the bed beside you. “You have not relaxed, shojo?” Putting a thick finger under your chin, he pulled your face up to look at your hazy and unfocused eyes. “You are still...under the influence.” He waved his fingers, making sure that your eyes followed them. “Koneko, you need to relax. Can you hear me? Do you know me?”

You nodded blankly to his questions, still shivering at the muscular man on the bed. Why was he asking these questions? What did he want? Your mind was still floating hazily, carrying you on a warm and happy cloud somewhere deep in subspace. Exhaustion flickered through you distantly, far from your mind. 

He pulled you gently up to kneel on your knees, looking doubtfully in your face. His thick, rough finger to your lips. “Relax your teeth, shojo,” he ordered gruffly.

Your mouth dropped open automatically at his order. The archer’s face was surprised at the instant obedience. He snorted again and pulled the soaked pouch out from your mouth. It landed in his palm with a plop. He nodded, patting your hair. “You need to wake up, shojo.”

You heard the spurs jingling and a faint scent of whiskey and cigar smoke wafted past. Jesse guffawed. “Yer definitely not a daddy, Hanzo.”

“I have been careful not to be put in that situation,” the archer snorted as he ran his rough fingers around your mouth to check it for damage. “It would help no one to have more Shimada children for the clan to fight over.”

Jesse snorted again and came to the bed with a small plastic bottle of cranberry juice so cold that you could see it sweating. “Nah...not like havin’ a lil’ girl by blood.” He dropped his arm around your shoulders. “Lil’ girl subs take some extra tender lovin’ and care.”

Hanzo watched you both as Jesse stroked your hair. The cowboy whispered to you, “Now, lil’ darlin’, let’s come down to earth.”

You nodded blankly as the bigger man’s hand petted and stroked you gently. Your daddy held the bright red cranberry juice bottle to your lips. Jesse crooned in your ear, “Now, drink up. Ya know that Daddy wants you to be good and drink yer juice.” You nodded again, taking another gulp. “Ya need to finish yer juice and then tell Han how much ya enjoyed yerself for yer birthday before takin’ a bubble bath an’ goin’ to bed.”

“She is hardly a child,” snorted Hanzo with his arms crossed.

Jesse smirked. “She’s gonna be my lil’ girl when she’s a hunderd an’ eight.” He kissed your cheek. “Now, ya need to be thankful, lil’ girl.” Hanzo snorted again, watching as you gingerly finished your drink. “Okay—that’s good. Take th’ bottle to th’ kitchen and throw it away.”

You nodded blankly and crept out from under the quilt to throw the bottle out. Jesse laughed at Hanzo’s shocked look as you walked past them naked. He was still laughing when you came back in with a curious look. He guffawed, “Aww, darlin’, ya should’ve seen Han’s face when ya walked out.”

You looked in dazed confusion at the archer who refused to look you in the face. As you watched, you saw a flush spread over his sharp features. Finally, he looked in your eyes and asked softly, “Are you...well?”

You nodded with a sleepy smile. “I’m okay.” You yawned widely and rubbed your eyes. “I’m doing good.”

“Thank the man,” Jesse prodded with a snicker as you looked curiously back at him. “After all, he came for yer birthday.”

Hanzo growled slightly, crossing his arms over his bare chest. “Must you be so crude?”

“Well, ya did,” the cowboy insisted with a catty grin. “After all, remember I saw it all.”

You twisted a little shyly. “You did?”

“Sure did, darlin’. Once th’ lights went out, I could see ya from th’ window.” He did have a slight red to his cheeks as he scratched his bristly beard. “Though I didn’ mean ta have yer battery run dead ‘fore I could tell ya Hanzo was in on it.”

“Daddy! I was scared stiff!” you pouted wearily. “I thought someone had broken in the base.”

“Well...,” he drawled. “I just wanted to kinda follow th’ book.”

“Oh,” you whimpered with a flush.

“An’ I’ll bet ya enjoyed every moment,” he smirked.

You thought for a moment—and your brain was only now stuttering towards functionality—and nodded with a smile. “I did,” you smiled. “It was really hot—once I figured out that it was really safe.”

Jesse nodded. “I wanted ya to have a good birthday.” He smirked. “Maybe we’ll do it again since ya both enjoyed it so much. What do ya think, Han?”

“We will have to see.” He shrugged. “I suppose you will talk me into it, whether I want to or not.” Then he shot you a warm smirk. “But if you wish it, I will..make myself available.” 

“Thank you, Hanzo,” you nodded towards the other man. Then, you smiled and cocked your head to ask, “Is...is that what you’d really do...? I mean, towards...a girl—like that.”

Hanzo finally smiled a smooth and wicked smile. “No...not completely.” He shrugged a little. “I was tremendously more safe and went a lot slower than what I might have done—back then.”

You thought about that answer. It was...actually kind of what you expected. Daddy never would have let you be unsafe and undoubtedly spoke to the archer for hours about how safe he wanted your experience to be. But you couldn’t help but feel a bit excited though, wondering what it would be like if he wasn’t holding back.

Hanzo stood lazily and gathered the rest of his things, balling most of it up into a loose, dark bundle. You picked up the little bit of trash and blew out the candle. The apartment was again clean and Hanzo and Jesse were walking to the door. Jesse was holding out his hand to shake and Hanzo only bowed in return.

Sidling up to stand beside Jesse, you looked up at Hanzo curiously. “C-could I ask you one more question?”

Hanzo looked up at Jesse for a moment and then nodded politely. “What would you like to ask me, shojo?”

“That means ‘lil’ girl’ in Japanese,” Jesse said softly.

“So...when you said that it wasn’t completely what you’d have done,” you started softly. “W-w-what would you have done different?”

He smirked at you and shrugged. “Aside from the fact that usually I’d be...working?” You shivered at that—as a yakuza, his ‘working’ probably involved lots of violence that you were sure was too rough for a little girl. “But, yes, there was something specific that I’d probably normally do.”

You looked up at him timidly. “W-w-what would that be?”

His hand shot out and grabbed before you could blink. He latched on to the base of your neck and yanked you against him. His lips ground against yours, forcing them open before sliding his tongue in to dance with yours. His hand slid behind your head, holding you close for a moment. Then he tilted his slightly, coaxing your arousal now.

“Hey! That wasn’t part of th’ deal!” Jesse growled, grabbing your shoulder and pulling you away. “You scallawag, yellow-bellied, snake in th’ grass! I trusted ya ta—.”

Hanzo snorted, tapping your nose before releasing you. “You told me to give her a good time and to answer her questions.” He shrugged elegantly. “I am doing exactly what I promised—answering her question.” He looked at you. “I would definitely kiss you before I left.” He winked at you and turned to go out the door. “See you on the range, Jesse-San.”


End file.
